The Wolf and the Bat
by AdventurousShadows
Summary: Bigby Wolf is the protector of all Fables, no matter where they may be. When this duty brings him to Gotham City, he finds himself in the watchful eye of the Batman. However, something far more sinister is in the works, something that can threaten not just Gotham and Fabletown, but the world. M for strong language and violence.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Gotham

"Bigby...come out, come out, wherever you are..."

Bigby Wolf was stuck. He had never before felt helpless like this. He was clutching his stomach, trying to stop the blood from rushing out of the gaping hole in him, crimson staining his white dress shirt. He leaned against the wall, peeking his head around the corner nearby, trying to find his attacker, only to see nothing. He could hear his voice echoing around the dark halls, mocking him, torturing him, hunting him down.

Moonlight seeped through the broken widows, the night breeze going through his tussled hair. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as he tried gasping in a few deep breaths, only to feel a sharp stabbing pain every time he attempted it, making it in vain.

"Oh come on, Bigby, I just want to play...with your corpse..."

At the sound of his attacker's grating and demented voice, Bigby pathetically crawled away with one arm, the sound coming from close by. A trail of blood followed him, as he scrapped against the old, splintered floor. He was the Sheriff of Fabletown. He was the Big Bad Wolf. And he was on the verge of death. Murdered by a psychopath.

He couldn't begin to comprehend where he went wrong. All the people he had just let down by failing here. Snow, Boy Blue, Colin, every fable in general, really, and that's not to mention the people he's met since this all began. His friends, the people who have given him solace.

And he failed them all. He's going to die. He's going to die right here. And all he could do was prolong it.

* * *

 _One Month Earlier_

Bigby Wolf guided the ferry through the harbor, the cold night air smacking him in the face. The sound of water splashing underneath him filled his ears, as he unenthusiastically sailed towards his destination.

Gotham City. Otherwise known as Hell on Earth. Filled with mundy freaks that would have to be seen to believed, the city was a haven for crime and corruption. Or at least it use to be. While it's still nowhere close to paradise, it has seen a drastic upturn since a particular man started operating in the city.

Bigby scoffed. A man had to dress like a bat for this city to do anything. Ridiculous.

"Dammit Snow," he cursed to himself, not pleased at all. "Why did I have to be here?"

Of course, he already knew the answer to that question. Prince Charming as been sighted in the area. And he's apparently making some pretty crappy friends. It's only a matter of time before he poses a danger to Fabletown by revealing himself, so Bigby was sent to find him, and bring him back home.

Of course, Snow never said anything about being nice about it. He didn't expect her to. Not for her ex-husband.

Bigby set the course for the port, as he let go of the steering wheel, checking his smartphone to see if his accommodations were all set up. While he checked though, a smell came across his nose.

He sniffed a few times, as he looked around his small boat. The scent was strong. Filth. Familiar filth.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Bigby growled, as he followed the scent to a closed trunk on the deck. He opened it up, to see the last thing he wanted to see.

Colin, one of the three little pigs, sleeping. He snored slightly, as Bigby groaned.

"Colin!" He yelled, causing the pig to jump awake, startled. He looked around, before laying his eyes on the Big Bad Wolf.

"Oh. Hey Bigby," he greeted, tired.

"'Hey Bigby'!?" The Sheriff snarled. "What the hell are you doing here!? You're suppose to be at the Farm! Not on a boat to the worst city in the world!"

"I thought I could use a vacation," Colin casually said, as he jumped out of the trunk, before almost falling over due to the unsteadiness of the boat. "Jeez. Rough waters?" He asked Bigby.

"No, they're actually really smooth. You're just a pig, and you have terrible balance."

"That's harsh," Colin stated.

Bigby gave an exasperated sigh, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Colin, this isn't a joke. This is a dangerous place. People die here for nothing at all. The only real hope I have of finishing this quickly and quietly is for me to remain inconspicuous. And I can't do that if I have to wander around the city WITH A TALKING PIG."

"Relax, Bigby," Colin reassured. "I'm only going to be in wherever you stay at. I ain't looking to be your deputy."

Bigby gave the pig a hard stare. "Ugh. Fine." Bigby turned around, towards the gothic city, it's lights emanating a sad type of glow. "Get back in the trunk. We're here."

* * *

"What's this guy's name?"

In a dark alleyway on the other side of town, two men were walking around, looking around wearily, trying to figure out what they were suppose to do there.

"Don't know," one of the men answered the other's question. "He didn't give a name."

"He didn't give a name?" The first one repeated.

"Are ya deaf? No, he didn't. These things don't work like that." The second explained.

The two men, dressed in dirty clothing with multiple tattoos printed on their skin, looked around the dank alley, looking for any sign of their contact.

"So, this guy of yours," the first started. "You sure he good?"

"He got Charlie his first big break," he said. "Now he works for Penguin. He's good."

"So we find what this guy wants-"

"And we do it. And then we get our fair share. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

The two searched underneath the dumpster in the alley, and around any boxes that they see, only to find nothing. Before they could continue their search however, something flew by out of the corner of the first goon's eye.

"Did ya see that?" He asked his partner.

"See what?"

Again, a flash of black flew by just out of his line of sight, making the man panic. "Oh man, no, no, we gotta go."

"Calm down man, you're just seeing things," the thug brushed off, still searching.

The first crook wasn't convinced. "He's here! Screw this, this ain't-"

Before the thug could escape, he was hit in the head by a speedy object, too fast to properly see what it was, much less dodge it. He toppled to the ground, scaring his friend in the process.

"What the-!?" The first man exclaimed, before a solid punch came out from the shadows, taking him by surprise and knocking him out cold. The other thug, seeing his friend get taken down so swiftly, immediately stopped what he was doing, and tried to make a run for it.

However, felt something trip him, making him crash to the concrete floor, his face landing right into a puddle. The scared crook looked up, to see his worst nightmare.

The silhouette of the Bat, with his thin white slits for eyes staring menacingly at him.

"Please, no! Don't! I'm begging-"

He was cut off as the Dark Knight rocked him with a stiff kick to the head, silencing him. Batman then looked at the unconscious body, and satisfied with his work, he looked around the alleyway.

"Computer: Scan," he ordered, as his cowl changed his view into an x-ray vision. He looked around the alley, observing the boxes, garbage cans, and various other items, before he detected something.

He walked straight up to a storm drain that was against a wall, crouched next to it, and stuck his hand through the metal bars. He grabbed the item he was searching for. A wadded up piece of paper, damp from the water that has been hitting it. He unraveled it, reading the message inside.

 **THE MAN CALLS HIMSELF PRINCE CHARMING. BRUNETTE, ABOUT 160 POUNDS, REAL PRETTY BOY. ONLY WEARS FANCIEST CLOTHES. SOCIALITE, MIGHT HAVE MONEY. FIND HIM AND TAKE HIM OUT.**

Batman stood up, before putting a finger to his ear. "Alfred?"

 _"Yes, Master Bruce?"_ His faithful butler answered.

"I found another bounty, this time for a man who calls himself Prince Charming."

 _"Just what this city needs, another fairy tale,"_ he dryly responded.

"He seems real enough. He's the fifth person in two weeks that's been targeted," he stated, dead serious.

 _"And the next one to meet a terrible fate, if you don't intervene,"_ Alfred commented.

"Exactly. The problem is, he doesn't relate to any of the other victims," The vigilante told him. "He's an apparent socialite. The last victim was a drug dealer, and the one before him was a dentist. None of their backgrounds were similar, and it looks like this man is no different."

 _"What do we do now, sir?"_ Alfred asked.

"This time it was just some street punks, but considering the ways we found the other bodies..." He grimaced, thinking about the image. "We have to assume that there are others. Whatever this is, they're expanding."

"Who is?" Alfred asked, a bit lost by the Caped Crusader's thoughts.

"The ringmaster of this whole system they have," Batman explained. "Whoever this is, they're organized. They set a target, they kill a target. Why, is another question, that we can't figure out until we find out who this is, and what their end goal is. The only way to do that, is to find an arm of this syndicate, if we can call it that, and follow it to its core."

 _"And how would we go about that, sir?"_ Alfred inquired.

Bruce thought for a second, as he walked away from the alley, long black cape treading behind him. "We bring Prince Charming to us."


	2. Chapter 2: Investigations

"Bigby."

Wolf was slightly disoriented, as darkness surrounded him.

"Bigby, wake up."

Bigby kept his eyes closed, not listening to the voice. He was at peace, and didn't want it to end.

"Bigby, don't make me take a shit on the carpet. We both know who'll have to clean it up."

Finally, the Sheriff opened his hazel eyes, frustrated beyond belief that his slumber was interrupted. He rose from his bed in the old hotel room, still groggy, to see Colin looking up at him from the floor. "What do you want?" He asked, annoyed, as the shirtless fable swung his legs over the edge of the bed, revealing his boxer shorts.

"I'm hungry," Colin stated.

Bigby looked around at the room, to see the sun starting to seep in through the dirty, hole filled, cloth curtains. The wall paper was peeling off the walls, while there were cracks in the ceiling. He slowly got to his feet, his toes touching the hard, wooden floor, the ancient bed he was sleeping on creaking slightly in the process. "Did you check the mini bar?" He asked.

"Who do you think I am?" Colin sarcastically asked. "Course I did. Everything in there's expired."

Bigby walked past the antennae topped TV set, and went to the small fridge on the floor, before crouching down and opening it. He scanned the pathetic selection for a few seconds. "This jerky still looks good."

"Read the label," The pig told him.

Bigby took the bag, and looked over it. "Pork Jerky," he read, before looking back at Colin. The two stared at each other for a few moments, before Bigby shrugged. "I don't see what the problem is."

"Go fuck yourself, Bigby," Colin said, as Bigby closed the fridge, and went over to his suitcase.

"So, what do you want?" Bigby asked, as he pulled out a white dress shirt, and started putting it on, buttoning it up.

"I don't know. What do they have around this time of year?"

"It's October," Bigby said, as he found a pair of black slacks, putting it on one leg at a time. "Everything is pumpkin spice."

"Oh yeah. I never liked pumpkin spice. Flycatcher tried to turn me onto it, but I never got the hype."

"It's overrated," Bigby agreed, before he got a black tie, and started twisting it around his collar, tying it. "So, pancakes?"

"Pancakes," Colin confirmed. "And maybe some coffee."

"Ugh, fine," Bigby said, as he pulled out a pack of Huff N Puff cigarettes from his bag, along with his lighter, before throwing them in his pocket. "I need to stop being such a nice guy."

"You tried to eat me and my brothers, and destroyed our homes in the process," The youngest of the three little pigs reminded him. "You need to KEEP being a nice guy."

Bigby rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Are you ever going to stop guilt tripping me?" He asked. "I've been reformed for centuries now."

"I'll stop guilt tripping you when it stops getting me pancakes," Colin stated. "But we both know you're a sweetheart, so that ain't gonna happen anytime soon."

Bigby growled slightly, knowing the pig was right. "You know, if we weren't such good friends, I'd just eat you for breakfast."

"But we're besties, so please, I'm imploring ya, please get me some fucking pancakes," Colin basically begged.

The Big Bad Wolf snickered. "See ya, Colin," he said, as he walked out of the motel room, closing the door behind him, as he went straight outside.

He covered his face from the sunlight, the brightness still being a bit much for his eyes at the moment. Suddenly, he could smell the scent of Gotham, his heightened senses picking up the stench of the every restaurant, construction site, and person in about a ten mile radius.

He immediately went to his natural defense, as he took out his pack of smokes, smacked the carton on the back of his hand, and place one of the cigarettes in his mouth. He put the carton away, and then lit the cigarette, as he took a drag, blowing the smoke out of his mouth, and neutralizing the scent of the city.

"I hate this place already..." he muttered to himself, as he walked through the motel parking lot, and started walking along the cracked sidewalk next to the busy street, various cars speeding by, a few honking there horns, as Bigby strolled down the street, looking for a place to eat.

Meanwhile, he sorted through what he knew about Charming. He was a womanizer, not being able to help himself but to bend woman to his will, even using them to have a place to stay and live for a few weeks at a time. He was also a bit of a party animal, but only when it was with the high class figures of the world. He was greedy, always wanting more money, even though he was one of the wealthiest figures in Fabletown.

And finally, the man was an attention whore. He needed some kind of eyes on him at all times, which is why the Sheriff was out here in the first place. One of the rules of Fabletown was to not reveal that you're a fable to the mundies, due to the fact that if too many people put them under scrutiny, the magic that made Fabletown look like a regular New York neighborhood would fail, and reveal everything.

And mundies couldn't handle other mundies. They would go nuts and hunt down all Fables. And he would not let that happen.

"Hey!"

Bigby, startled by the noise, took the cigarette out of his mouth for a second, turning towards the voice he had heard.

"Someone stop him!" A blonde woman in a black coat yelled, as she pointed at a man that was running away from her, and straight towards Bigby, a handbag in his hand. "He stole my purse!"

Bigby sighed slightly, as the man sprinted closer to him. In response, Bigby stepped in the man's path, quickly pushing the thief down on his back, surprising the crook. Taken completely by surprise, the man quickly got back up, and into the fable's face, furious. "The hell are you?"

"Just a concerned citizen," Bigby dryly stated, putting the cigarette back in his mouth. "Hi."

"You think you a tough guy?" The man asked, reaching into his coat pocket.

"I think you're a dumbass," Bigby stated.

The mugger pulled out a pistol, and pointed it right at the Sheriff's head, still very close. "Get out of my way, and you won't get hurt."

Bigby looked unimpressed at the thief, before he took out the Huff N Puff from his mouth again, and blew a cheap cloud of tobacco smoke in the man's face. Quickly, Bigby shoved the cigarette back in his mouth, and grabbed the man's wrist, crushing it in his grip until the man dropped the gun, howling in pain.

"You son of a-" the man exclaimed, before being silence by a hard right hook, knocking him out.

The woman ran up to Bigby, who was crouched over the unconscious man, grabbing the purse. "Oh my God!" The woman exclaimed, amazed by the display. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he gruffly stated, handing the woman her purse. "Here."

The woman looked wide eyed at the man, before carefully accepting the purse. "I...I can't thank you enough."

Bigby wasn't listening to her though, as he noticed the fact that several citizens had stopped to watch the scuffle, mouths agape. "Seriously!?" He asked, loud enough for everyone to hear him. "You just watched!? Did any of you even call the damn police!?" He yelled, only earning blank looks, before the people just started to walk away. Bigby pinched the bridge of his nose. "This fucking city..." he mumbled to himself.

"I know what you mean," she said, earning the fable's attention. "People are too scared to help anyone these days. Even someone like me."

Bigby raised an eyebrow. "And...who are you?" He bluntly asked.

The woman stared at him with wide eyes. "You don't know who I am?"

Bigby took a drag of his smoke. "Nope."

The woman didn't seem to believe him. "Are you saying you're not from around here?" She stared at Bigby's silent face for a moment, before realizing that he was being honest. "Huh. I didn't think Gotham attracted tourists anymore."

"It doesn't," Bigby told her, as he flicked his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under his foot. "I'm here on business."

"Well, I'm Vicki Vale," she introduced herself, sticking her hand out. "Reporter for Gotham City News."

"I'm Bigby Wolf," he shook the hand. "Private Investigator."

"Ooh, a detective?" She asked.

"Something like that," he scratched his cheek, giving the woman a small grin.

"What're you trying to figure out?" She asked.

"Right now? Where to get something to eat. I'm starving," he stated, as he turned around.

"I know a little diner down the block," Vicki told him, as she quickly trotted next to him, looping an arm around one of his. "How about I show you?"

Before he could respond, Bigby was being dragged down the street by the reporter. The fable just decided to go with it, considering how hungry he was. Besides, it might benefit him to have a conversation with a reporter.

* * *

Bruce Wayne didn't leave work to go unfinished. If he had a lead in a case, he was going to follow it until it ended up giving him results, or until it turned into a dead end.

However, sometimes he just wanted to find a new lead.

Deep in the Batcave, his secret base under his home of Wayne Manor, he sat at his Batcomputer, compiling the data he has acquired so far in the newest mystery to grip Gotham. Clad in his batsuit, only without his cowl on, he scanned the information, going over what he knew.

Various people have been dying the past few weeks. Murdered. Nothing connects the victims to one another, at least not from the angles Bruce has looked at yet, except for one thing. Their names were all on what appeared to be bounty notes, offering money for whoever was able to kill them. Now he discovered a new note, doing the same thing for a person by the codename of "Prince Charming." Why they were left behind left him baffled, as it seemed as though they were trying to lead him to them. However, he quickly realized it was used to taunt whoever tried to find them.

"Breakfast, sir," the voice of his trusty manservant rang from behind him, as he brought a plate of food to his employer. He set the food down next to him, knowing that Bruce doesn't tend to eat until his work is completed.

"Alfred, take a look at this," Bruce told him, as he typed away at the computer.

"If I must, Master Bruce," Alfred stated, unenthusiastic.

On the screen of the supercomputer was an image of the note Bruce had found earlier. "Here's the most recent bounty," Bruce stated, as the computer then zoomed into each individual letter. "The handwriting here is unique, and not used by any known criminal on file. However, there's something else."

The computer then zoomed out slightly, and started comparing the first letter to the other ones. "It's not the same handwriting. Each letter was written by a different person."

"What does this mean?"

"It means I was right. There's more than one person running this operation," Batman concluded. "Unfortunately, it still doesn't give us a clue on who they could be."

"But you are planning on finding this Charming fellow, correct?" Alfred asked.

"I'm planning on him finding us," Bruce stated.

"Then you should be able to figure this out. In the meantime, I suggest eating your breakfast, and preparing for your evening gala."

"Aflred-"

"Master Bruce, I was not asking you," Alfred authoritatively said. "Now, please, eat."

With that, the butler walked away from the billionaire, as Bruce slowly took a piece of toast from his plate, and began eating it. "Only you, Alfred..." he mumbled quietly to himself. "Only you..."

* * *

"Seriously? A puppet?"

Bigby was sipping on his black coffee, with a decent enough egg skillet sitting in front of him. He was sitting at a booth inside a small mom and pop diner, with the lovely reporter sitting across from him, having a small cheese Danish.

"That's right," Vicki confirmed. "His name was Scarface. It was really just this crazy guy who had multiple personalities, but he had a small gang for a while. Until Batman broke the dummy and threw the man in Arkham."

"A crime boss that was a puppet," Bigby thought aloud, shaking his head. "Ridiculous."

"That's Gotham," she said, taking a bite of her food. "It's not the best by any means, but at least it's honest."

Bigby rolled his eyes. "I think I'd prefer the 'fakeness' of New York City."

"How is it up there?" She asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Well sweetheart, it ain't Gotham, but I get by," he joked, giving her a wolfish smirk. He had to get on her good side if he was going to get anywhere.

She smiled back at him. "Smart alek, huh?" She asked.

"Sometimes," he stated, shrugging. "But only when I'm in a diner. You're to blame here, by the way."

"Good to know," she said. She went quiet for a moment, before looking right at him. "So, what brings you to Gotham?"

Bigby stared back, trying to figure out the right thing to say at the moment. He can't let her know too much. "I'm trying to find a man."

"Oooooh..."

"Not like that," he gruffly told her.

"If you say so. I know a lot of fun men for you though..." she tempted.

"I'm good," Bigby bluntly told her, gritting his teeth while trying to be nice. "No, the guy I'm looking for may be getting into trouble, and I need to find out if he is and bring him home."

"And why-"

Bigby held a hand up. "Can you please stop with the interview shit?" He asked. "It's...getting a little annoying, to be honest."

Vicki shrugged, not really caring. "Hey, it's in my blood," she justified. "But what did this guy do that caused you to come out here?"

Bigby had to think on his feet. She seems like she would dig too much if she gave too interesting an answer. "He might be cheating on his wife. She hired me to find him."

She deflated slightly. "Oh."

"Yeah. He comes over here for business sometimes. Loves big black tie parties. You don't happen to know anything like that, do you?"

She smiled slightly. "Funny you mention that. Bruce Wayne just decided to throw a party tonight."

"The billionaire?" He asked, hopefully.

"That's right."

Jackpot! No doubt that wherever Charming was at the moment, he was going to hear about this. There's no way he could resist. "And how does one get into the party?"

"Well, normally you would need an invitation, but it seems like it's an open party. Of course, they aren't just going to let a nobody in."

"But if it's open-"

"He has bouncers," she cut him off. "If they don't think you're a fit, then you won't go in. Simple as that."

Bigby sighed. There was no way he was going to be able to get in himself. "So, not for me then?"

Vicki gave a smile to the fable. "Well, maybe you could. See, I don't have a date, and you are kind of handsome."

Bigby was a little surprised. He could barely hide his contempt for this person, and she wanted to bring him to a party. "Really?"

"Yeah. The person I usually brought to these things is..." she paused for a second. "Well, he's a bastard. Can't appreciate me. I'm on TV all the time and make hundreds of thousands of dollars and year, and he was too good for me!" She slightly ranted.

Bigby bit his tongue so he wouldn't make a sarcastic comment. "Yeah...what was he thinking?" He said, insincerely.

"I know! Well, screw him, I got a rugged guy who can beat up street criminals instead."

Bigby quietly ate his food, considering this. She was annoying, self-centered, and thought she was way better than she actually was. But, she could definitely get into Wayne's house. And this was the only way he could think of to find Charming in this hellhole.

"Ok, I'll be your date," He said with fake enjoyment. A few seconds later, a waiter walked past them, making Bigby motion to him. "Excuse me, sir?"

The waiter, hearing him, walked up to the table. "Yes sir?"

"Can I have an order of pancakes?" He asked. "Add it to the bill."

"Of course," the waiter said, before walking off again. Bigby then looked back at the reporter, to see an accusing type of look.

"What?" He asked.

"Pancakes? You just had a large skillet," she observed.

"It's for later," he lied, as he took a sip of his coffee. He planned out the night ahead of him in his head. He just hoped he could get the bastard, and get out of the city.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Wayne Manor!"

It was now night in Gotham, and while the rest of the city fell into its usual gloom at this time, one place was glowing vibrantly in celebration. Inside Wayne Manor, various aristocrats, politicians, and all around important people gathered in the ballroom, which was decorated with tables covered in refreshments and appetizers.

The suited individuals were currently paying attention to one man, and one man only. Their host, Bruce Wayne.

"I hope you all are enjoying yourselves so far," Bruce smiled, a warm expression on his face. "It's always a pleasure to see you all. However, I'm afraid I have to bore you for a few seconds with my talking."

A few chortled slightly, amused by the man.

"I'm sure most of you are wondering why I'm throwing this party out of nowhere. Well, it's not because I'm rich, even though that's a pretty decent reason."

More laughs from the distinguished crowd.

"But the main reason I'm doing this is just to celebrate Gotham. Last year, we had the highest level of reported police corruption in the world, the city had more unrenovated buildings than any other city and the country, and we were gripped in fear by the Scarface gang. Today, a year later, and that has changed."

That statement earned some cheers from the party guests. Bruce looked at all of their faces, making eye contact with several of them. He was slightly studying them, trying to see any obviously unknown people, hoping that this Prince Charming showed up.

"The city has cracked down on police violations, we have several neighborhood upkeep programs now in effect, and Scarface's gang has been disbanded, and their leader was thrown into Arkham. Every year, we are improving, thanks to people like you. So," he began, as he took a glass of champagne from one his servers, and raised it above his head. "Here's to us!"

The rest of the crowd rose their glasses as well, before drinking its contents. Bruce, content with his speech, walked away from the crowd, before approaching his butler.

"Enjoying yourself, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, a plate of quiches in his hand.

"Anyone seem on edge?" He quietly asked.

"No one is especially conspicuous, sir," he told him.

"Keep an eye out. There's a chance that this man knows he's being targeted. But if he's a socialite, he won't be able to help himself."

"Dully noted. Can I interest you in a quiche?" Alfred asked.

The billionaire looked at the platter that Alfred presented him for a second, considering it. After a second, he took one, and shoved it in his mouth, before walking away.

On the other side of the ballroom, Bigby walked into the room alongside Vicki Vale, as he scanned the room. He was wearing his nice, brown trench coat, looking just formal enough to pass as someone who belonged here. Vicki, on the other hand, was wearing a fancy, pale blue dress. "Nice place," he stated, as he looked around, hands in his coat pockets.

"The nicest in town," Vicki said. "Glad you came?"

Bigby raised an eyebrow, giving her an annoyed look. "I literally just got here. How am I suppose to form an opinion in two seconds?"

Vicki just stared for a second, before huffily turning away. "Well, talk about ungrateful. You know, I brought you along because of how grateful I was, but-"

She turned around, to see that her 'date' was gone. "Bigby?" She asked, as she looked around, having no idea where he went.

Bigby was escaping through the crowd, not being able to take another second around that woman. Did anyone here actually listen to her? She's an airhead.

The sounds of various people conversing at once filled his ears, as he did his best to focus. Charming had to be here somewhere. This place would be too tempting for him. It was like a bug zapper to a moth. However, due to all of these socialites cologne and the food they were eating, too many smells were coming to him, clouding up his mind. He focused, trying to single out any familiar smells he may have at the moment.

This reminded him of when he was hunting back in the Homelands. Back then he stayed in his natural form, as the pure wolf, and he would wander the forests, finding the soldiers from the group that drove the fables to New York in the first place, the Adversary.

He would disembowel goblins and the like for years, before finally going through the portal to Fabletown, destroying the passageway behind him. He then got a human form, and became Sheriff of the community. However, there was still nothing quite like following his basic instincts.

He passed by several people, as they were too busy enjoying themselves to notice him.

He sighed to himself, the easy music that was playing starting to grate on him. He pulled out his carton of cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth, and lit it. Content, he took a drag of the Huff N Puff, as he put the rest back in his pocket.

"Excuse me, but there's no smoking here," a deep voice from behind told him.

Bigby rolled his eyes, as he started to turn around. "Look pal, I don't really-"

He cut himself off, as he stood eye to eye with the host of the gathering, Bruce Wayne himself. He didn't look pleased.

"Oh," Bigby stated, not expecting to actually see the man. "Hello."

"Hello. No smoking," Bruce told him, with narrowed eyes. The detective studied the unfamiliar, smoking man in front of him. His clothes were formal, yet not expensive in the slightest. The cigarette pack that he saw wasn't a brand that he recognized, meaning the man could've been from out of town. The man's slightly disheveled brown hair and stubbly face made it clear that he wasn't someone that was concerned with grooming too often.

He definitely didn't belong here.

Bigby, meanwhile, was looking right back at the host, forming his own thoughts on the man. He was famous, known for charity, as well as parties and hanging around supermodels. He was a good guy for the most part, but obviously spoiled due to his money. He faced some kind of tragedy when he was younger, but Bigby couldn't remember what it was for the life of him. One thing was for sure though, that incident grounded the man enough. In person however, the billionaire seemed...intense.

"I needed to smoke," he stated, stoic.

Bruce just stared for a moment. "That's a terrible habit to have."

"...I'm sure it is..." Bigby carefully said. He couldn't afford to get kicked out now.

"I don't think we've met," Bruce said, a frown on his face.

"No. We haven't."

"Bruce Wayne," he said, introducing himself.

Bigby couldn't help but notice that he didn't offer his hand. "Bigby Wolf," he told him, still smoking. "Nice shindig," he insincerely complimented.

"Isn't it?" He asked. "So, who did you come with?"

"Who said I came with anyone?"

Bruce didn't look phased. "Everyone came here with someone."

Bigby considered this. "Vicki Vale brought me along," he answered.

"Really?" He asked, a bit interested. "You know, we use to date."

"Good for you," he said. "You know, for breaking up with her."

"Heh. She was a bit much," he agreed.

Bigby didn't feel comfortable for some reason. He had to get out somehow. But how, he-

"Screw off, creep," he heard a feminine voice say, from what must of been across the room. He looked around, seeing that no one else but him was able to hear it.

There was only one person who could get that strong of a reaction from a woman, for better or worse. "If you excuse me, Mister Wayne," Bigby said, as he walked away, still smoking.

Bruce stood there for a walking, watching the man walk into the crowd, cutting off his line of sight. Bruce then turned around, walking away from the party. He found his lead.

After a few seconds, Bigby was able to track down the source of the sound, before his eyes landed on an absolute beauty of a woman that was near the refreshment table. In a smooth, strapless red dress, and with short, black hair, the woman was sipping on her drink, leaving a small smudge of blood red lipstick on the glass as she did so. She had a slightly sour expression on her face.

"Excuse me, miss," Bigby said, earning the woman's attention.

"Ugh, great, another man who thinks he can just hit on me," she said in a velvety voice, rolling her eyes. "How boring."

Bigby looked unimpressed. "Relax, I ain't flirting with you."

"Ha! I find that hard to believe."

"Believe what you want," Bigby stopped caring. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

The woman looked at him for a second, before calming down. "You're serious?"

Bigby nodded.

"Wow. A gentlemen. I kinda want you to flirt with me now, big boy..." she seductively said. "Selina Kyle."

"What?"

"My name's Selina Kyle," she said, getting a little closer to Bigby. "And can I get your name, handsome?"

The fable scratched his cheek. "Uh, Bigby Wolf." He said.

"Very Nice to meet you. So, what brings you around?"

Bigby shrugged. "Just...hanging out."

"Really?" She asked, not believing him as she leaned on the table.

"Don't believe me?" He asked, suddenly finding himself intrigued by the woman.

"I never said that," she playfully told him.

"You were thinking it."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, as she suddenly got very close to him, and put a hand on his chest. "And what am I thinking now?"

Bigby smirked, before he sniffed the hair, getting a very familiar scent. Charming! He suddenly broke away from the woman, taking her by surprise. "Sorry, but I just remembered something," he lied, as he followed the scent.

Selina crossed her arms. "Sorry hun, but no one gets away from me that easily," she quietly said to herself as she turned away.

Bigby paced quickly to the direction his nose was leading him, as he finally came across a glass door to the balcony. He went through it, quietly, closing it behind him. No one in the party seemed to notice him, which only helped him.

He saw at the end of the balcony the silhouette of a man. A man in a very expensive suit, wearing a very particular musk.

"Charming!" He growled, making the former prince turn around in fear, as the Big Bad Wolf stomped towards him, flicking his cigarette away.

"Sheriff!?" He asked, more than surprised to see him. He quickly tried to put on an expression of calm, but it obvious that it was fake. "It's lovely to see you here."

"Do you know how badly you messed up here!?" He snarled, furious with the fable. "Going to Gotham, getting involved with criminals!?"

"Hey, how do you know about that?" Charming asked, as he backed away slightly, as Bigby slowly got closer to him.

"The Magic Mirror, Charming," he exasperatedly told him. "Snow used it to find you. She was worried when she didn't see you around the neighborhood for a few days. Turns out she was right to be worried. We saw you in the Iceberg Lounge, talking to some shady folks."

"So, like a good obedient pup, she sent you here, right?" Charming asked, a devilish smirk on his face.

Bigby wiped it off with a hard punch, almost knocking the former prince over. Bigby then grabbed him by the collar, and pushed him against the railing. "You got involved in criminals, Charming!" He roared. "Crooks! Do you understand that, you idiot!? You could've revealed us! They could've killed you!"

"I'm too popular with the mundies to die," Charming said, nonchalantly, as a large bruise started to form on his face. "Besides, they might of been mad at me, but it's fine."

"'They'!?" Bigby yelled, not being able to believe it. "Someone's after you!?"

"They shouldn't be!" Charming stated. "At least not anymore, after our trade."

"What trade?" Bigby asked. However, Charming went quiet, putting the Sheriff in unease. "What fucking trade!?" He asked again, shaking him.

"Bigby, please don't be mad, but-"

"Let him go."

Bigby looked over his shoulder, to see a shadow perched above him, looking down from a gargoyle on Wayne Manor.

The shadow of the Bat, staring threateningly. At him.

"Aw shit..." he groaned, as he realized that his night was about to become a lot more difficult.


	3. Chapter 3: Bat vs Wolf

The night stood still, as the two fierce men locked eyes.

Bigby Wolf, with Prince Charming still squirming in his grasp, stared daggers at the living myth above him. He knew that the Bat was real, but he never thought he would see him in person. And if even half of the stories Bigby heard was true, he was in trouble.

Meanwhile, the perched Caped Crusader stared right back at the fable. He had met him earlier as Bruce Wayne, but now the rules were different. A stiff breeze came through the air, making his cape wave slightly in the air, white slits narrowed at his prey.

"I'm asking once," Batman said. "Let him go. Now."

Bigby frowned. "This...'man' and I go way back," Bigby responded. "This doesn't concern you. Let me leave, no one gets hurt. Deal?"

Batman didn't appear impressed. In response to Bigby's deal, the Dark Knight practically flew off the gargoyle he was on top of, and quickly booted the Sheriff of Fabletown in the face, knocking him and Charming over the railing, and making them fall about 15 feet towards the ground. Still trying to figure out what exactly hit him, and dealing with the screams of Charming assaulting his ears, Bigby had a hard time thinking straight as he plummeted towards the earth.

The two fables hit the grass hard, the two rolling slightly along the ground, with Bigby ending up with his face in the dirt. He looked up, and sputtered slightly, to see that he was in the backyard of Wayne Manor. The large area of grass was decorated with various walkways, bird fountains, and other fancy objects that Bigby thought was more than a little tacky.

Ok, maybe this wasn't the right time to criticize a man's decorative choices. He was fighting a 6 foot man in a bat costume.

He groaned, as he slowly pushed himself off the ground. He looked over at Charming, the handsome brunette looking out of it from the fall. Bigby made it to his feet, before turning around, only to meet a surprise fist from the Batman.

The hard hit cracked open Bigby's noise, streams of blood starting to flow down his lip and into his mouth. If he had a dollar for every time he tasted his own blood.

Bigby, with a cry, charged at the protector of Gotham, throwing a haymaker, only for Batman to dodge it with ease, before grabbing the hand and flipping Bigby over him. He still held on to the Sheriff's arm, before bending it at an unnatural angle, making the arm pop viciously, breaking it.

Bigby howled in pain at the unexpected and fluid attack, as he fell to his knees. He couldn't believe it. There was no way this was a regular mundy. No mundy could do the things he was doing. Moving silently, moving quickly, attacking with such strength, and having the wherewithal to know how to do it. He didn't have a chance in this state. He had to go all out.

"You're going to answer some questions for me," the Dark Knight stated, as he walked up to the man from behind. "Why are you after Charming? Who wrote the note?" After getting nothing but silence from the unknown thug, Batman grabbed the shoulder of the broken arm. "I said-"

He was cut off as Bigby's good hand quickly grabbed him, and whipped him a ways across the lawn. Batman rolled along the ground for a few moments, before recovering. When he looked up, his eyes widened in surprise.

Bigby got back to his feet, changed. Brown fur started to cover most of his face, his broken nose now transformed into a snout, blood still coming out of it slightly. His hands turned into claws, with long, sharp nails at the end. He bared his sharp teeth, as his eyes turned yellow, narrowing at the sight of his enemy. The fable showed some of his true nature, now half man, half wolf.

"Alright," Bigby snarled, ripping off his coat and showing his slightly more hairy arms. "You want to go?" Bigby then snapped his broken arm back into place, rotating his shoulder, cracking it slowly. "Then let's fucking go!" He roared, as he ran at the caped crusader faster than he could of before.

Before he could react, Bruce felt the sharp pain of claws scratching across his chest, ripping the bat symbol and exposing the Kevlar underneath. His claws went through his armor. Bullets couldn't do it, and this man did it without even thinking about it.

The Big Bad Wolf kept slashing away, as Batman tried to back away, defending himself by throwing his gauntlets in front of his face, having them absorb the brunt of it. Batman then kicked Bigby hard in the gut, slowing him down enough where Bruce was able to flip over him, and deliver a hard elbow to the back of the skull.

Bigby stumbled forward slightly, and with a growl, he whipped around, backhanding the Dark Knight in the process. Bruce quickly responded with another right hook to the jaw, before Bigby charged at him, picking him up and tackling him down brutally on one of the brick walkways, cracking it in the process and knocking all the air out of Bruce.

Bigby threw his hand back, getting ready for another blow, before the World's Greatest Detective pushed him away with his powerful legs, making him land near a bird fountain in the grass. Bigby quickly got back to his feet, only to have two batarangs impale themselves into his shoulders. He tore them out, staining his white dress shirt with crimson.

When distracted by the weapons that stabbed him, the Wolf didn't realize that there was a small pellet by his feet. He looked down, only for the pellet to break open, covering his immediate surroundings in smoke.

Bigby snarled at the cloud, before realizing that he was blind to the Bat. He focused his hearing, trying to pinpoint where he was, but couldn't figure it out. Suddenly, a hard kick connect to his head. Bigby quickly swiped at the direction it came from, but didn't hit anything. He tried his sense of smell this time, only to realize that the smoke diluted it.

He felt a rope tie itself around his ankles, before it dragged him off his feet, and onto the ground. He grabbed along the lawn, trying not to be dragged away, knowing that the Batman had laid some sort of trap for him.

Bruce, right outside the cloud, was pulling the rope with all of his might, trying to get him out in the open so he could follow up with the one tool he had that could end this fight quickly. A sonic batarang. If his senses were as acute as a real wolf's, then placing it on him would drive him unconscious.

Finally, Batman got Bigby out of the smoke cloud. However, before he could react, the fable smashed a bird fountain across his face, knocking him back, and making him let go of the rope. Now free, Bigby quickly untangled himself, and pounced over towards the Bat, who now had blood covering mouth, his lips busted open.

Bigby was ready to strike again, before he looked out of the corner of his eye, realizing something.

Charming had ran off during the fight.

"No!" Bigby growled, as Batman looked over to where the Sheriff was staring at.

"Pity," he coldly remarked, before smacking him hard across the face, knocking him off. "Your target got away."

Bigby was about to retaliate, but was quickly pinned down by a pair of solid knees to his shoulders. "Let me go!"

"Tell me what you know!" Batman yelled. "Who are you working for!? Why are they after Charming!? What did he do, who is he, and how did you get involved!?"

Bigby's mind was going into overdrive. He was involved in...whatever this is. He was looking into it. He could put everything at risk. Bigby had to get out of there, he had to-

He noticed another one of those pellets hanging from the Caped Crusader's utility belt. Bigby quickly stabbed it with his claw, causing it to explode another cloud of smoke. Taking the Bat by surprise, Bigby was able to slip away from him, connecting with an uppercut on his way out.

Bruce was stunned, and before he could scan his surroundings for his opponent, Bigby had made his escape. The smoke cleared, and Batman was alone. He frowned deeply, no further along than he was before.

He placed a finger to his ear. "Alfred?"

 _"Hello, sir,"_ His faithful butler chirped in response. _"The last of your guests are filing out now."_

"Good. Prepare the medical bay. I have a few injuries that need to be patched up."

 _"I assume you didn't have any luck with the prince?"_ He dryly asked.

"No. And we have a new player on the field," he said, as he picked up the coat that was discarded earlier. "We have a wolf to catch."

* * *

Bigby was frustrated beyond belief.

Now back to his human form, the fable silently growled to himself, as he walked along the sidewalks of Gotham at night, his nose still bloody.

He pinched his broken nose, doing this enough that he knew not to look forward to the next part. He quickly snapped it back into place, making it crack in protest as it sent a sharp pain throughout his face. "Yep, that smarts...ugh..." he groaned to himself.

To recap, he lost Charming, got into a fight with the legendary Batman, revealing himself in the process, and now he was even worse off than square one. Charming knows he's after him, and since that bastard is hiding something, he's going to be on the run.

While it felt much better than he cared to admit, Bigby wasn't overly found of bringing the wolf out at all. Whenever he did, he had a hard time controlling his instincts. He felt more like running through the woods and devouring a deer than to actually solve this. But he needed to find Charming, now.

Apparently, Bigby wasn't the only one looking for him. At least that was what he was able to piece together. Charming said something about a trade? A trade of what? Charming wasn't terribly rich anymore. In fact, he was economically average to mundies. That's why he had to survive off of nothing but his charm for so long.

So, cross off money that he traded. Bigby was getting a pit in his stomach. He quickly placed a cigarette in his mouth, and lit it, puffing it slightly before reaching for his phone in his pocket. He took it out, only to see that the screen had a large crack in it.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "Don't think the warranty covers being kicked off a ledge by Batman..."

He quickly typed in a number on the damaged screen, and brought it to his ear. After a few rings, the other end picked up.

 _"Business Office,"_ a feminine voice answered.

"Snow, it's Bigby."

 _"Sheriff!"_ Snow White greeted, a bit surprised by the call. _"Did you find Charming already?"_

"Sort of. He's definitely in Gotham, and he's definitely doing stupid shit," Bigby grimly told her.

 _"Great,"_ she grumbled, frustrated. _"What did you find out?"_

"He said something about people being after him, but they shouldn't be after a trade he made."

 _"Trade?"_

"Exactly. Get Bufkin to see what mystical items were assigned to him," he said, as he took a drag of his cigarette.

 _"Of course,"_ Snow agreed. _"Wait, how did he tell you? I thought you said you don't have him."_

"I don't. I caught up to him at some rich boy's party, but he got away. Batman showed up."

 _"Wait, what!?"_ She asked, suddenly worried.

"Yeah, Batman," Bigby growled. "He knows about Charming somehow."

 _"Does he know he's a fable?"_ She asked. _"Does he know you're a fable?"_

"I don't know, but..."

 _"Bigby, what did you do?"_

"I had to go half-wolf," he told her. "Hopefully he just thinks I'm another freak."

 _"Bigby, how could you be so-"_

"Look, it was either that, or he ships me off to Arkham," Bigby interrupted. "Batman isn't just a regular mundy. He's...he's something else."

 _"And you beat him?"_ She asked, skeptically.

"Well, I'm no Superman, but-"

 _"Bigby-"_

"I was able to get away from him. That's it," Bigby said.

 _"Well, that's great and all, but-"_ Snow then cut herself off, as Bigby could hear her talking to somebody off the phone. She sounded incredibly displeased, almost panicked.

"Snow?" Bigby asked, concerned, as the brisk autumn air whipped past him.

 _"Bigby, they..."_ Snow tried to find the right words. Bigby was immediately concerned. It had been a while since the distant Deputy Mayor actually called him by his first name. _"Bufkin didn't find any items assigned to him, but he found a notice for a item that was missing from the witches on the thirteenth floor."_

"What was it?" Bigby asked, not liking the sound of this.

 _"The spell book the Wicked Witch,"_ of she stated.

Bigby's eyes widened at the news. "What!?" He almost yelled. "Are you sure!?"

 _"I'm positive. Charming must of-"_

"That god damn idiot!" The Sheriff cursed. The spell book of the Wicked Witch of the West wasn't like any other spell book. The person wielding it didn't require any knowledge of magic to even use it. Inside the book were spells that helped the Witch keep a hold of Oz for years. Spells that could be used to crush entire civilizations. Even worlds.

And Charming gave it away to cover his own ass.

 _"Bigby, you need to find him, and find him now,"_ Snow ordered. _"We need to get that book."_

"Right," Bigby said. "I need to find a way to track him. If I can just..." Bigby trailed off, as he looked at a strange stain on his pant leg. "Snow, I'll call you back."

 _"Right,"_ she curtly said, as the Wolf hung up.

Bigby quickly put his phone back in his pocket, and dropped his cigarette before crushing it under his foot. He touched the stain, and then brought his finger towards his nose, sniffing it a few times.

Cologne. 'Women's Desire'. Charming's favorite. It must of spilled on him when the two fell off the balcony. Suddenly, Bigby could smell it halfway across town.

He quickly walked on the trail. He found him. And this time, there was no way he would let him escape.


End file.
